


death?

by orphan_account



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Axiety, Car Accidents, Childhood Friends, Coma, F/M, Major Character Injury, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, major character death almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s pretty comical how it took death for both of us to realise it wasn’t some stupid unrequited love.
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie & Main Character (Love Island), Bobby McKenzie/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	death?

_ “You don’t realise what you have until it’s gone” _

That’s what everyone says, and up until right now, I never believed it. Who could’ve guessed that this was going to happen?

Well, one thing is for certain.

I  **love** her.

Or should I say  **loved** , past tense? Huh, shoulda told her while I had the chance. This is what you get for being a wimp. I’ve most likely loved her from the moment we first met 10 years ago. 365 days in a year and times that by 10. 24 hours in a day so… about 87,000 hours of my life I’ve wasted loving her from afar.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

It doesn’t really feel like she’s gone. I mean, she isn’t, but she may as well be gone. Any minute now she’ll sneak up behind me and shout “surprise!” or she’ll hug me from behind like she always does… 

**Did** .

Past tense is tricky. I mean, she’s still  _ here _ technically. I’m looking at her body right now. It doesn’t look like it normally does though. It’s cold and there are tubes coming from every part of her body, like some kind of science experiment.

It’s weirdly comforting? Not the fact that she’s dying, but the fact that she’s completely unaware.

She’s been out cold from the moment that truck slammed into the side of the car.

It was  _ probably _ my fault for driving that late. And I’m also  _ probably _ a psychopath for not being upset right now, but I’ve been crying for the last 2 months and no good has come from it, so I’m kind of numb.

The therapist told me it was to help me cope with my feelings. I used to be a master at hiding them, but now I have nothing to hide. The lid on my jar of emotions became unscrewed and never put back on until it was empty. Kind of like turning on a tap and one day the water stops coming out. It’s really unexpected but makes sense. Water runs out.

… I wonder if she can hear me? Some people in comas can hear.

I cleared my throat before grabbing her hand and squeezing gently, “Hey, you. It’s uhh… it’s Bobby. You know, your best friend? Robert? Boopster? Class clown? Ring any bells?”

God, I feel stupid, I’m talking to the shell of a human.

“I don’t know what to talk about which is different for me. I normally can’t stop the word vomit. You usually hate my rambling, but right now it might be comforting you? I- … what can I talk about? Oh! Great news,” he patted the cast on his leg, “turns out the leg injury wasn’t as bad as previously thought. My face is still covered in bruises and I’ve got a few stitches in the gash on my cheek. I’m also dizzy all the time. Apparently that can be a side effect from a severe concussion. It’s called post-concussion syndrome. Speaks for itself really doesn’t it? No surgery for me… can’t say the same for you sadly. Your arm is bionic now. It was totally shattered so you’ve got metal holding it together. As for your head injury, the bleeding has stopped, they just need the swelling to go down. I’ll never forget you looking me in the eye before you blacked out. One pupil was covering your iris completely almost like a cat when it’s dark. The other was a tiny dot. Also a side effect of a bleed on the brain. Hey! It’ll be cool if when… or  _ if  _ you wake up they still look like that! I also think my physio said I’m gonna have to learn how to walk again, which’ll be hard. I promise to lay off the cupcakes. Do you knwo what’s funny as well, all my kitchen mates are the ones cooking for me. It’s like being at work, but not  _ being _ at work… As for you, not gonna sugar-coat it, things aren’t looking great, but there’s  _ some _ hope,” I sighed. Maybe it’d be better if she couldn’t hear me talking about her dying.

“I’ll stop with the morbid shit now, Kiara. I’ve got another x-ray in a few minutes anyway. Your parents are visiting later. And I’m going back to my hometown in a week, so you’ve got to get better before then, okay? I want to see you smile before I leave. My PTSD means I can’t keep living in London with you. It sucks, but my family decided it’s better for my mental health to go back with my ma to Glasgow. No nervous breakdowns every time I drive down the street that way…”

I paused, thinking about how to say goodbye. The tears were starting to well up after 1 month of no emotion, and I choked on my words, “Every time I say goodbye… It might be- it could be the last. So… I lo-” I couldn’t continue with that sentence, instead opting to squeeze her hand one more time.

And, I’m probably going crazy, but I swear she squeezed back.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can hear you!” I screamed.

“I love you too!” I screamed.

But it was the same as it had been for almost 3 months now. No sound left my mouth. All I could see was black and all I could hear were muffles.

I knew I was in a coma, but I thought I was meant to be asleep or something. Not this hell. Being trapped in my body - It was suffocating.

I had to endure listening to my best friend thinking I was dead. He’d pretty much given up on me. I can’t blame him, he’s been stuck in this hospital for just as long as me, but I couldn’t help but be a  _ bit  _ annoyed. At least he can move. Well, not without a wheelchair, but I couldn’t even wiggle a finger.

Well, I  _ thought  _ I couldn’t move my hand, but when I heard him start to cry and he squeezed my hand, I barely managed to squeeze back. I thought he didn’t notice, but instead of leaving like usual, he lingered.

“You- you can hear me?” He whispered.

God, I wish I could see his face right now. I also hope he can’t hear how fast my heart is beating right now. I mean, he did finally admit he loved me, even though I was asleep. If I was conscious I'm sure my face would look like a beetroot.

“Squeeze my hand again, come on Kiara. Let me know I’m not going mad. I know you can.”

I’m trying Bobby. I’m trying. Don’t lose hope.

“Of course you can’t. I’m just being stupid.”

No, God no. Don’t leave Bobby. You only have a week left. Skip the x-ray, tell them you don’t need it.

I tried to squeeze his hand again but he pulled his away and I heard footsteps and then the door closing straight after.

I wish I could cry.

You know the stupid cheesy saying, the one that says “the most important thing in your life flashes before your eyes right as you die.”

Well, mine was him.

I always thought we were a bit more than friends, and he showed up in my visions for a reason. I mean, before you fucking die surely your mate doesn’t show up. That’s reserved for soulmate shit, as Lottie would say.

It’s pretty comical how it took **_death_** for both of us to realise it wasn’t some stupid unrequited love. It was raw emotions that we felt for each other. How do you love someone like a husband when you haven’t even kissed?

Actually, technically we have kissed. But that was him trying to give me CPR after the accident.

And I only have faint memories from it, drifting in and out of life.

I remember snippets of that night. We’d been out in London for Chelsea’s birthday. He drove us to the nightclub so refused any drinks, but we convinced him to have one beer.

It was supposed to be harmless.

Anyway, It must’ve been 2 AM when we were driving home. Bobby was 100% sober, but I know he’ll blame my death on himself having that 1 beer.

We’d just turned the corner onto Westminster bridge when a van came out of nowhere.

I can’t remember much after that. Screeching of tires. The smash of glass. Bobby’s screams. My own screams, I guess. Hitting my head on the concrete. Somehow ending up outside of the car, Bobby stuck on the inside, his leg trapped. People helping him out. Him crawling over to me, leg dragging behind him like a horror movie. Sirens.  **His lips on mine** . Then darkness.

I ‘woke up’ apparently a month after. Even though I was kinda still asleep.

Ever since then it’s been a lot of prodding, apparently one code blue where I nearly died again, (but I don’t remember that), and listening to Bobby breaking down in my hospital room to the point where he was sedated a couple of times.

He stopped visiting after the 2-month mark.

I thought maybe he’d  **killed himself** .

Turns out he was having a mental health crisis and was now on loads of medication. That’s what he’s been telling me anyway.

He started visiting again regularly since last week. The three-month mark.

I’d be lying if I told you that I was lonely. Nurses visited regularly, so did my family, my parents not wanting to leave my side for more than a few hours, but after 3 months, even they had to leave me for a few days at a time. And Bobby would be there for hours when they weren't.

Apart from his month of being missing - and when he was still unable to get out of bed for the first month - he’d even been sleeping by me, not caring about the nurses begging him to leave.

Of course, the visits had been shortening, but everyone's hope was failing. How would I recover from this?


End file.
